


The Boy Next Door

by AntarcticBird



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-15 14:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntarcticBird/pseuds/AntarcticBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine thought nothing could be more exciting than finally living in New York. But that was before he met the boy who lives across the hall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy Next Door

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the kblreversebang 2013.
> 
> They say it takes a village and in this case, it really did. So let me introduce you to the villagers, awesome people, all of them.
> 
> [Pace](mailroomorder.tumblr.com) betaed the hell out of this, fixed the plot holes, made sure I didn’t use more ellipses than words, and took care of my very imaginative grammar. I test-wrote most of this fic in emails to her and she’s still talking to me, so that deserves a hug. Or cookies. Your choice, Pace!
> 
> [Nicole](mixedberryjam.tumblr.com), my trusted go-to girl for beta purposes. I swear, I can’t post anything without her approval anymore. She needs to read it over at least once before I feel comfortable sharing it. Thank you, bb!
> 
> [Cate](bluecloudsupabove.tumblr.com), who listened to me talk about this story for weeks and talked my finger off the delete button more than once. You’ve definitely earned the title of village counselor. Thank you so much, honey!
> 
> [thismomentasmylast](thismomentasmylast.tumblr.com) who helped me get started when I was figuring out how to write this, and
> 
> [keepfollowingklainebows](keepfollowingklainebows.tumblr.com) for encouragement, and, most importantly, for coming up with the title.
> 
> You guys are all awesome! That also goes for [egobus](http://egobus.tumblr.com/), who made the best art for this. Seriously. Look at it. It's gorgeous.
> 
> This was fun for me. I hope you all have fun reading!

**Day 1 – Moving Day**

“I'm going to go get more boxes,” Sam calls over his shoulder, jogging off toward the stairs.

Blaine nods, wiping sweat from his forehead, leaning against the door frame for a second to catch his breath. Moving is _exhausting_. He wishes they'd just be done already. Sighing, he bends down to pick up another box. They both have so much stuff. He almost regrets bringing his entire record collection now. Even if it certainly hasn't taken up as many boxes as Sam's comic book collection. He's starting to wonder how they'll be able to cram it all into their shoebox of an apartment and if they'll even have any room left to set up at least one desk. He assumes that even in college studying and homework will be mandatory and he isn't really a big fan of studying on the floor. That’s if there will be any floor left at all with the way things are starting to pile up.

Hearing steps on the staircase, he straightens his back, fingers clutching at the surprisingly light box. Probably kitchen stuff, then. They don't really have a lot of that yet.

“We should probably take a break soon,” he calls out, assuming it is Sam coming up the stairs.

It isn't.

It’s a boy - a man - about his own age, and someone he has definitely never seen before because, yeah, he’d remember that. He’d remember _him_. Blaine can't help the way his eyes widen as he stares dumbly for a second, shocked into silence as he’s clutching his box of kitchen supplies to his chest. He realizes the stranger is looking at him, noticing him standing there, and his brain screams at him to _say something, just say anything, don’t just stand here and stare at him_ , but … he has a face unlike anything Blaine has ever seen in his life, beautiful and unexpected, his clothes hugging his body in a way that makes him seem taller than he is, hair swept up into a perfect wave, eyes so clear and … amused? And oh god a voice like the melody of his favorite summer song...

“Uh … what?” Blaine asks, suddenly aware that the angel is speaking and he isn't even listening to the words.

His laugh is beautiful as well, as it turns out. “I just said hi.”

“Oh. Right. Hi. Um.” He gestures around. “Sorry about the mess. Moving day. We'll be done in a minute or so.”

“Oh, don't worry about it,” the stranger with the tight pants clinging to amazingly long legs says, stepping over a box to get to the door opposite Blaine and Sam's.

“No, okay, I just mean -”

“Do you...” The boy hesitates before turning back around. “Do you need any help? With moving all that stuff.”

“Oh, uh...” Blaine twists his mouth into what he hopes is a smile, ears burning. “Um. We're. Okay. I think. But thank you.”

“Are you sure?” the ... model? asks. Blaine thinks he could totally be a model with his perfect skin and that elegant way he holds his shoulders and those eyes that kind of make him forget to look away even though staring is _really_ not appropriate for that long.

“Well...” he sighs. “I don't want to bother you, I'm sure you're busy. I'm Blaine, by the way. New neighbor. If you live here? I mean, maybe you're just visiting a friend, in which case we aren't neighbors and I really couldn’t ask you for help. Not that I expect my neighbors to always be helpful and stuff. I know this is the city and people probably want to be anonymous. I totally get that. I mean. I'm not some freak who has to be friends with everyone in the building or something. So don't feel obligated. But, I mean, I'd totally let you have a cup of sugar if you were, like, baking and ran out or -”

“I'm Kurt,” the boy cuts him off, and maybe he is an actor, he certainly has the presence for it. Can angels be actors too?

“Blaine,” Blaine repeats. “I already said that, didn't I?”

“Well, now I won't forget,” Kurt says, laughing. “Now. Do you need any help? Because, yes, I live here too, and I don’t see a problem with neighbors being nice to each other.”

“Oh. Okay.” Blaine grins. “In that case, I'd really appreciate some help with these. Sam's bringing the rest up right now.”

“Sam?”

“My roommate.”

“Oh, I live with a roommate too,” Kurt tells him, grabbing one of the boxes and following Blaine into the apartment. “You'll see her around, she's kind of hard to miss.”

Blaine puts the box down on top of a few others, stretching his arms until he feels his joints pop back into place. “Just over there,” he says, pointing at a random corner as Kurt lifts his box, raising his eyebrows in question.

“So, you're not originally from New York?” Kurt asks.

Blaine shakes his head. “First day in the city. Came here for college.”

“Oh, me too.” Kurt looks up excited. “Well, a year ago. But, yes. Came here for college too.”

So, Kurt is not a model, then. Well, maybe he goes to model college. Or maybe he _is_ an angel, sent to Earth for a brief period of time to study mortals... “Really? Where do you go?” Blaine wants to know.

“NYADA.”

Blaine feels his eyes widen again. “Seriously?”

Kurt, looking a bit unsure as if he’s expecting Blaine to make fun of him, nods his head. “Um. Yes? I'm a musical theater major.”

Blaine bounces on his feet, taking an excited step closer. “That's amazing! I applied there too, but I didn't get in. I'm going to NYU now. I'm gonna be a teacher. For music.”

“That sounds really amazing, too,” Kurt says, smiling warmly.

Their eyes lock, and Blaine is sure he has never seen eyes this color before in his life. He can't even – they aren't quite blue, but they aren't green either, and they certainly aren't gray, and ... he feels warm all of a sudden, and not just from lifting boxes. And Kurt's face is so gentle, so open, so pretty … _Oh god_ , he thinks, _let him be gay. Please_ please _let him be gay, otherwise this staring is going to get really awkward real soon..._

“Hey, Blaine, I think we got most of it now,” Sam calls from the doorway, jolting them out of their moment.

Kurt takes a hasty step back, almost tripping over one of the boxes, his head whipping around to where Sam is standing, two large boxes in his arms. Blaine sees a faint blush rising on his neck and spreading on his cheeks, Kurt's mouth opening and closing a few times.

“Good,” Blaine says, feeling a small stab at the way Kurt is lowering his eyes under Sam's gaze, staring at his shoes. Well. He can't blame him. He's been there himself, after all. Sam is an attractive guy. Probably way more attractive than Blaine right now. He's sure there are random curls breaking free of the gel in his hair because he’s been sweating so much and he's not even wearing anything nice today. He sees Sam looking at Kurt expectantly and snaps out of his disappointment. “Oh, this is Kurt, he's our neighbor.”

“Hi, Kurt,” Sam says, putting the boxes down by the door.

“Hi,” Kurt answers, blushing even harder as he glances back at Blaine.

“So maybe we should start cleaning up this mess then,” Blaine says, giving the boxes scattered throughout the living room a weary look. Moving is a lot more tiring and a lot less exciting than he’d anticipated.

Sam gives him a thumbs up, immediately bending down to read what is written on the side of the nearest box.

“I'm – um.” Kurt clears his throat, grabbing the strap of his bag that is still slung over his shoulder. “I'll just put this away and then I could … help? With that? If you want?”

“Thank you,” Blaine says, making himself smile. It’s just … Kurt is _so_ pretty.

“Okay.” Kurt smiles back shyly, hurrying out of the apartment, and Blaine can't make himself tear his eyes away from the way his hips move in those tight jeans. He also doesn't miss the way Kurt's neck reddens a little more as Sam smiles up at him from the floor when Kurt passes him.

Great. His first day in New York and he immediately meets the cutest guy in the world, who immediately starts crushing on his very straight roommate who Blaine himself had been in love with for the better part of a year before he'd been able to move on.

What a perfect start to this new chapter of his life.

Kurt is back a few minutes later, without the bag and without his jacket and no less beautiful than Blaine remembers. Because, yes, he had spent most of the eight minutes and twenty-three seconds Kurt had been gone (not that he looked at the time) remembering him while he moved a few boxes into his new room.

Blaine walks back into the kitchen to find Kurt talking to Sam, who is carefully explaining their pretty much nonexistent labeling system and which boxes go where while fiddling with a half-empty water bottle, and Kurt is listening, head tilted to the side, nodding occasionally.

He catches Blaine's gaze, and the blush is still there (of course it is, Sam looks way too good all sweaty and with his hair messed up like that), and Blaine ducks his head, cursing his life. He should have looked for an ugly roommate. Living with your best friend is probably terribly overrated anyway.

Together, they move more boxes, slowly clearing everything out of the tiny living room that doesn't belong there.

Blaine sees Kurt's grin as he picks up the box that has _Blaine's bowties_ scrawled on top of it and blushes.

“It's kind of … a thing,” he explains. “I like bow ties. They, um. I like them. Wearing them.” He fights the urge to sink to the floor and hide behind a wall of moving boxes, but seriously, stumbling over his words probably doesn’t really shift the odds in his favor when he has Sam to compete with.

Kurt shakes his head quickly. “Oh, so do I. I was just impressed with the actual size of this box. You must have quite the collection.”

“Not _that_ many,” Blaine mumbles, glad that Kurt is at least being nice about his weird obsession and not just laughing in his face about it. He gets the feeling though that Kurt wouldn’t do that - of course he’s not just beautiful, he’s also really nice.

They move a few more boxes before Kurt unearths the guitar case. “Oh.” He looks excited. “Do you play?”

Blaine looks up at what Kurt's holding. “No, that's Sam's,” he says. “He's teaching me, though. But yeah, I'm more of a piano player.”

“That's nice,” Kurt comments, and Blaine quickly looks away. The hot ones always fall for the guitar players. It's just a way cooler instrument, he supposes. He'll have to make Sam teach him a few more chords. Maybe he’ll save up for a guitar of his own. Because it sounds like a good idea to have one if he’s going to teach music. That’s all. That’s the reason he wants one. 

Between the three of them, and now that they don't have to climb all those flights of stairs anymore, they're actually done moving boxes pretty quickly.

“Do you guys need any help unpacking?” Kurt asks, wiping at his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Oh, that’s okay. Thanks.” Blaine tries not to stare at the way Kurt’s shirt clings to his arms when he lifts his hands. “We really can’t ask you to give up any more of your time.”

Kurt rolls his neck, stretches his shoulders, and Blaine almost misses his next words because _damn that was hot_. “Okay. I guess I'll be getting back to my homework then.”

“Oh, hey, you should totally come to our housewarming party,” Sam calls, sticking his head around the door frame of his room where he's organizing his belongings.

Blaine shoots him a surprised look, because housewarming party? This is the first time he hears about that. It's not like they know anyone in this city to celebrate with anyway.

“Oh.” Kurt seems to think about it. “I wouldn't want to intrude...”

“You wouldn't,” Blaine is quick to say. Any excuse to get Kurt to come back over here.

“Actually, you _really_ wouldn't, since you're kind of the only person we've met so far,” Sam clarifies. “It wouldn't be much of a party if you didn't show.”

Kurt laughs. “In that case, yes, okay.”

“Bring your roommate,” Blaine suggests.

Kurt looks a bit unsure, but nods. “I'll ask her. I'll let you know, okay?”

“Awesome.” Sam walks over, holding out his fist, and Kurt looks momentarily confused before he lifts his own and tentatively bumps it against Sam's. Sam grins. “How's tomorrow night for you guys?”

“Sounds good,” Kurt says, and smiles, and Blaine walks him to the door even if it's really just three steps from where they're standing, watches Kurt unlock the door opposite theirs, waits until it closes behind him before firmly shutting theirs.

Then he turns on Sam. “What the hell was that?”

Sam, who's back on the floor pulling something that looks like extremely frilly curtains out of a box, looks up. “What?”

“A housewarming party?”

“Sure, why not? Isn't that what you're supposed to do when you move into a new place?”

Blaine groans, desperately wishing for a couch he could dramatically drop onto. They'll have to look for a cheap one as soon as they're all set up. “And you had to invite -” he gestures in the direction of Kurt's door, dropping his voice a bit, “ _him_?”

“Whoa.” Sam stands up. “What's wrong with that? He seems cool!”

“Yeah, well.” Blaine breaks off, not sure what to say. He's not _actually_ angry. He's just - it's been a long day and he's in a new city and he's pretty sure he just met the man he wants to marry except that said man seems to want to elope with his roommate who’s Blaine’s best friend and _not even gay for fuck’s sake_ , and he just wants some peace and quiet for _five fucking minutes_. “What the hell is that anyway?” he asks, a little louder than he'd intended, pointing at the tragically over-sized doily in Sam's hand.

“Curtains,” Sam explains, blinking uncertainly. “My aunt Bettie wanted us to have them.”

Blaine breathes, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides as he tries to calm down, tries to come up with an answer that's not ' _it looks like a crochet needle tried to hang itself with the ugliest piece of off-white yarn it could find_ ' and eventually just shrugs angrily. “I'm going to unpack.”

And with that he stomps off to his room, banging the door shut behind himself. _Dammit_. He really has no idea what just happened.

 

**Day 2 – Housewarming**

“This is Santana,” Kurt introduces the girl standing next to him as Blaine opens the door. “My roommate. Oh, and,” he lifts his hand, holding up a plate. “We brought cupcakes. Chocolate fudge with peanut butter frosting.”

“Awesome!” Sam reaches around Blaine, plucking one off the plate and shoving the whole thing into his mouth. He moans around it. “God, they're delicious.”

“I'm glad.” Kurt smiles.

“Uh,” Blaine says eloquently, looking for something else to say, but it's difficult when he can't breathe properly. Somehow Kurt has managed to become even more gorgeous over the past day. “Come in,” he finally manages, unable to look at him.

“We also brought booze,” Santana says, holding up a bottle of what looks like cheap vodka.

Blaine stares at the bottle, not wanting to stare at Kurt and not sure actually staring at Santana would be a safe idea. She has a certain kind of intimidating presence. “I'm Blaine,” he introduces himself. “That's Sam.”

Santana looks them both up and down, smirks, then walks over to the kitchen counter to set down her housewarming gift. “Welcome to New York. Where do you keep the glasses?”

“Santana,” Kurt hisses, but Sam is already at her side, pulling glasses out of a cupboard.

“Thanks for coming over,” Blaine says. “It really wouldn't have been much of a party without actual people.”

“Thanks for inviting us,” Kurt answers, and Blaine notices that he has the cutest freckles dusted all over his nose and cheeks. He quickly looks away, not wanting Kurt to catch him staring, and walks a few steps to the center of the room, essentially abandoning Kurt by the door, but it seems safer than staying close and doing something impulsive like - like taking his hand and telling him he has the prettiest eyes and the most radiant smile and... He notices Sam giving him a strange look, but just gives a quick shrug and rolls his eyes at him. Kurt is being pulled toward the kitchen counter by Santana anyway, it’s not like Blaine is being a bad host, he just needs to not embarrass himself right now.

“Shots,” Santana calls, startling Blaine out of his thoughts, and he catches Kurt looking at him apologetically before reaching out to take the vodka offered to him.

“I'm just doing this one,” Kurt announces, giving Santana a firm look. “So don't even bother refilling my glass after this.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” She rolls her eyes and shoves another shot at Blaine. “We'll see about that.”

Sam and Santana clink their glasses together before draining them quickly. Kurt is just sipping at his, and Blaine sniffs quickly at his own, not sure what to expect. He knows beer, he's had some wine before. But nothing this strong, ever.

Santana laughs at him. “It's not gonna attack you.”

“Well, it does have a nice burn to it,” Sam comments, licking his lips.

And Blaine thinks _courage_ , takes a deep breath, bringing the shot glass to his lips and knocks it back as quickly as he can.

And ... okay, okay, _not_ a good idea. He slams a hand down on the kitchen counter to brace himself as he’s shaking with violent coughs, his throat on fire and tears in his eyes. “Wow.”

“You probably shouldn't have done that,” Kurt says, his voice a cross between amused and concerned.

“No, that's exactly how you do it,” Santana corrects. “I’m actually impressed.”

Blaine shakes his head, still coughing, unable to speak for the moment. Okay. Kurt is definitely right. One is enough for tonight.

**

Blaine doesn't know how late it is, but his head feels fuzzy and somehow the drink doesn't burn quite as much anymore. Maybe it was just the shock of his first shot. There's music playing in the background and Sam is telling them about their last Regionals competition, perfectly imitating the way Sebastian, their second lead soloist, had freaked out ten minutes before their call. “...and those dance steps are _completely_ unoriginal, they do _nothing_ to showcase my talent out there -”

“That sounds like Rachel,” Kurt laughs, sprawled on the floor between Blaine and Sam, fresh drink in his hand, shaking his head. “Santana, doesn't that sound just like Rachel?”

Santana, who's just drinking straight from the bottle now, rolls her eyes. “I think Berry would have stalked off and wrestled Schuester into letting her go on stage alone. It’s not like she didn’t try on more than one occasion.”

“She _was_ always too ambitious for her own good,” Kurt sighs. “Great voice, though. You should have heard some of our duets back then,” Kurt says, addressing Blaine.

Blaine feels himself blush again and purposefully doesn’t look at Kurt, scrunching up his face to hide his smile. “Mmmhm,” he hums, the most eloquent answer he can come up with right now, and hides behind his glass. He catches Sam giving him a weird, almost accusatory look again, and decides that maybe he isn’t drunk enough after all. So he drains his glass, swiping at the bottle Santana is holding. One more refill can't hurt. It might even help him overcome this sudden social awkwardness. Seriously, where is that even coming from, he has never had problems talking to people.

Santana grins, holding the bottle high over her head. “Say please, Frodo.”

 _Right_ , Blaine remembers. _Manners_. “Please?” he tries, and pouts at her.

“Oh, wait.” Sam jumps up, surprisingly steady on his feet even though he's probably had a lot more to drink than Blaine. He disappears into the kitchen, rummaging through one of the as of yet unpacked boxes. “A-ha,” he calls out a moment later, holding up a bottle with a brownish-golden liquid inside.

“What's that?” Kurt asks, only slurring his words very slightly. Because even drunk, he's still so fucking graceful, and Blaine thinks that's really not fair. He's probably a mess himself. He _feels_ incredibly sloppy and not quite in control of his limbs let alone his thoughts right now, and all that despite the fact that he took an hour to pick out his clothes and do stuff to his hair so he would look nice for Kurt; he even gave himself a _You Can Do This_ pep talk in the mirror. But on the upside, this is fun. And it's not like Kurt seems to mind, he seems to be having fun too, so. It’s all good. Probably.

“Whiskey,” Sam says proudly. “Parting gift from Puck,” he explains in Blaine's direction.

“Oh.” Blaine isn't sure how much more he should really be drinking, but he's never tried whiskey before. Maybe now is the time to be adventurous. “Gimme.” He thinks for a minute, before adding, “Please.” No need to be impolite, even if it's just his best friend Sam.

Kurt sits up too, holding out his empty glass as Sam comes back over, and Blaine can't stop himself from grinning, even though he’s directing it at the bottle. Being unable to make eye contact still doesn’t stop him from raising his glass in a silent toast as soon as they both have a refill. Kurt mirrors the action and Blaine just has to say something.

“It's so nice you guys came over.” He beams at Kurt, shyly, but at least he’s looking at him now without forgetting how language works. Kurt is so nice to look at. Well, Kurt _is_ nice. Kurt. His neighbor and hopefully soon-to-be friend Kurt, who is so pretty when he smiles.

“It was really nice of you to invite us,” Kurt says, and his eyes are so bright and his cheeks so flushed and Blaine smiles back stupidly, because he's so, _so_ in love and it doesn't matter that Kurt probably loves Sam. He's content to just love him from afar. For now. 

Love. Pretty big word, _love_. Love at first sight. Just like in the fairy tales or in the countless romantic comedies he watched on the big TV in the living room on the weekends when Cooper wasn’t home to make fun of him for it. Blaine is in love. He _knows_ it must be love because he wants Kurt to be happy more than he wants to kiss Kurt. And he wants to kiss Kurt a lot. He remembers that Kurt won't be happy, though, if he finds out that Sam is straight, and that worries him. He'll have to make sure to be extra nice to Kurt when that happens.

“Of course we invited you, you helped us move in,” Blaine explains earnestly. “You didn't have to do that, but you did.”

“It's no big deal, I like to help,” Kurt says, and yeah, he's definitely the best guy Blaine knows.

He hears Santana making fake gagging noises just to his right, but he assumes it's about something stupid that Sam said. Sam, at least, gives Blaine a quiet thumbs-up behind Santana’s back. Blaine doesn’t know what it’s for, but he doesn’t really care. He and Kurt totally just had a moment.

**

“Whoa, no, I got him,” he hears Santana say, and looks up from where the floor is holding him up so nicely to see Kurt's arm draped across Santana's shoulders. Kurt looks like he's almost asleep. _Oh_. Oh no. Did they party too long? Was Kurt tired? He should have _said_ something. Maybe Kurt has to be up really early tomorrow. He'll be so tired if that’s the case. That makes Blaine sad. He doesn't want Kurt to be tired all day just because of them. Kurt was so nice to them. He doesn’t deserve to be tired.

“You're so nice,” he says, because Kurt should know that. People should always know all the stuff you like about them. Especially Kurt, because there's so much to like. He couldn't probably tell him all of it at once, though, because it would take too much time and he doesn't want Kurt to miss important things in his life just because Blaine is really good at making long lists in his head.

“Bye,” he hears Sam call, and then only a second later, a head appears in his field of vision. Blaine smiles, because it's Sam and Sam is his best friend and he lives with him now. In New York.

“I live here now,” Blaine informs him.

“I know. You okay, dude?”

“I'm awesome,” Blaine says, then giggles. “I try to be.”

“Should I get you to your room or do you need to throw up?”

Blaine thinks about it. Is he sick? He doesn't think so. Haven't they just been celebrating? He can't be sick then, they wouldn't have had a party if he had the flu or something. He would never hang out with Kurt if he was sick, because even if Kurt doesn't like him, he still wants to look nice for him all the time. Kurt is so pretty.

“...too pretty,” Blaine says dreamily.

“Who?” Sam asks, seeming confused.

Blaine gasps, because okay, Sam is straight, but he still has eyes. Blaine can see that Santana's pretty, so Sam must see that Kurt's really beautiful too. Everyone must see that. He struggles to sit up because you can't explain these things properly lying on the floor, but his arms get all tangled and somehow the floor doesn't really want to let him go right now, it seems. That’s okay too, he likes the floor. It’s a nice floor, it’s his and Sam’s floor in their nice, new New York apartment.

“Kuuuurrrrt,” he says, making sure to pronounce the name as clearly as he can.

“Kurt went home, Blaine,” Sam says, and Blaine blinks up at him, because, yes, he knows that. That's not the point.

“I know.” Blaine frowns, not sure what they’re even talking about right now.

Sam lets out a sigh and looks worried, and Blaine gets sad again, because they had so much fun and he wants Sam to be happy. They're in New York and they have friends! Really nice friends with really beautiful skin and adorable freckles.

“I'm going to get you some water,” Sam says as he tries to get up. But Blaine isn't done talking.

“Sam,” he tries, grabbing for Sam’s hand but catching a sleeve instead. Well, that’s okay too. “Hey, Sam, Sam. Sammy. Sam!”

“What's up, buddy?” Sam asks, leaning back down.

“Don't you think freckles are really cute?”

“Sure...” Sam looks like he's not sure what Blaine is talking about.

“I like freckles.” Blaine sighs. “I'm gonna write him a song and he's gonna get a verse for each freckle. And then I'm gonna sing it to him because it doesn't matter that he doesn't like me like that. I want to do something nice. Everyone deserves nice things, don’t you think?”

“I have no idea what you just said, but you deserve water,” Sam says, and loosens Blaine's fingers from where they're clutching at his sleeve.

Blaine laughs happily and rolls onto his side, closing his eyes for a second. Everything is just so good because Kurt's face is the cutest and Blaine is living across the hall from him with his best friend who brings him water because Blaine deserves things too.

He kind of loves the whole world sometimes. Most of the time, actually. What's not to love?

 

**Day 3 – One Hell Of A Hangover Day**

Waking up is no fun at all. His mouth tastes funny and his stomach churns as he tries to roll onto his back. He blinks his eyes open, but sharp pain shoots through his skull as soon as he does. Where is all this light coming from anyway?

He groans, covering his face with his hands, then hugs his stomach and groans again.

The door creaks open and he squints up, seeing Sam peek into the room.

“How're you doing?”

“I'm gonna die,” Blaine promises sullenly.

Sam tiptoes over, sits down on the edge of the mattress and shoves a glass of water in front of Blaine's face. “Drink this.”

He sits up as far as he’s able to, takes a few tentative sips. It’s not bad, but it’s not what he wanted. “No coffee?”

“Later,” Sam says. “Trust me. You want your stomach to settle a bit first.”

“Sounds like a good idea.” He closes his eyes again, feeling momentarily dizzy. “God. This is the worst. I have never felt so bad in my life.”

“We're going out for waffles,” Sam decides. “Or maybe tacos.”

“Tacos!” Blaine sits up a little straighter, regretting it instantly as nausea rises again. “Ugh. Can I shower first?”

Sam scrunches his nose at him. “Actually, yeah, I think you should. You look like hell. Smell like it too.”

“I feel worse than I look, believe me,” Blaine answers, climbing off the bed on unsteady feet. “Just give me a few minutes.”

A few minutes turns into more than half an hour, because once he's in the shower, he can't make himself leave, instead leans his forehead against the cool tiles, letting the hot water run over his back. The room is still tilting and spinning and he can't muster the energy to wash his hair, doesn’t really dare to let go of the wall either, only reaches for the shampoo once the water starts running lukewarm instead of hot.

He dresses carefully, moving as little as possible, wishing Sam would stop whistling in the living room. “Sadist,” he mutters under his breath, almost tripping as he tries to pull his socks on, eventually abandoning the idea altogether. He just slides into his shoes barefoot instead. Clothing is just too fucking complicated this morning.

Once he's successfully managed to put his shirt on the right way after two unsuccessful attempts during which he almost strangles himself, they're off. Sam is just closing the door behind them when the one across the hall opens and Kurt and Santana come out. Santana looks as put together and cheerful as she did last night, and even Kurt is well dressed, his hair just a little flatter than the past days. His eyes are hidden behind dark sunglasses, though, and, Blaine notices, he is a little paler than he seemed to be the day before.

“Good morning,” Santana greets far too loudly, smirking as she looks at Blaine. “Isn't it a beautiful day?”

“Sure,” Blaine answers, not sure what else there is to say. He also really kind of wishes he'd paid a little more attention to his outfit. And his hair. Living across the hall from Kurt is going to mean he’ll put on a bow tie just to go to the mailbox from now on.

“We're going out for hangover food,” Sam announces.

“Oh. So are we,” Santana says, even though she really doesn't seem terribly hungover.

“You guys wanna join us?” Sam pockets his keys, looking hopeful. “We don't really know where to go anyway.”

“Sure.” Kurt agrees, and Blaine’s stomach churns with excitement, which is a really unpleasant kind of sensation right now and makes him feel a bit more like maybe he _is_ actually dying. Oh well. If these are his last moments on Earth at least he'll get to spend them looking at Kurt. That’s something.

“Okay, let’s go,” Sam says, bouncing a little on his feet, way more excited than he should be on Blaine’s possibly last day on Earth.

“I know a great place,” Kurt says, directing it at Blaine.

Blaine, who had maybe, _maybe_ been staring a little, quickly looks away and shrugs, trying to appear completely disinterested. “Huh,” he offers nonchalantly. It’s the best he can do right now.

Kurt and Santana lead the way, Sam hanging back to walk beside Blaine, elbowing him in the ribs as soon as the other two are on the stairs and out of earshot. “What’s your deal?” he hisses.

Blaine gives him a confused look. “What?”

Sam sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Just be nice, okay?”

Blaine nods, not sure what’s going on. “Okay,” he says. Because he’s always nice. So he can totally promise that.

 

**Day 5 – The Ugliest Sofa In The History of Furniture**

He's still silently cursing Sam, standing in the middle of the living room, unable to tear his eyes away – seriously, it just gets worse the longer you look at it, but it's almost like watching a car crash, you just can't stop looking – when there's a knock on the door.

Jolted out of his silent brooding and subtle plans to set the damn thing on fire, he walks over to see who's there.

“Kurt. Hi,” he greets, coming face to face with the insanely attractive boy from across the hall, all thoughts about that - that _thing_ in his apartment instantly fading into the background.

Kurt smiles at him, holding up a bag. “I made way too many cookies and I thought maybe you...” at this point Blaine has opened the door completely, and Kurt's eyes, only fleeting from Blaine's for a moment to swipe over the apartment, suddenly widen and stay locked on something just behind Blaine. “... might like some,” he trails off.

“Thank you.” Blaine takes a step back, waving Kurt forward. “Would you like to come in?”

“I see you bought a … couch?” It sounds more like a question, and Blaine sighs.

Because yeah, that had pretty much been his first reaction as well. That is, in fact, still his reaction and he can’t see it changing anytime soon. “Sam found it online.”

Kurt swallows, nods, his voice calmly polite as he says, “It's nice.”

Blaine snorts, deciding to put Kurt out of his misery. “It's hideous.”

Kurt's shoulders seem to sag with relief and he shakes his head. “Where did he even _find_ that thing?”

Blaine shrugs. “I have no idea. But, I mean, what color is that even? Sam says it's green, but unless I've gone colorblind overnight -”

“That’s - no, that’s not green. Definitely not.” Kurt tilts his head, takes a tentative step further towards the offending piece of furniture. “It's not gray either, though.”

Blaine walks past him, reaching out to ruffle the fluffy surface of the … thing … with his hand. “Actually,” he points out, “if you look from the right angle, you see faded orangey stripes.”

“No!” Kurt bends over it, walks around it, making sure to catch every possible angle. “ _Oh_. Oh my god. Oh no. You're right. That's...” he shudders. “Interesting.”

“That's one way of putting it.” Blaine sighs. “Anyway, I was going to go out in a minute to look for a coffee table. Something cheap. And I need curtains for my room.” And hey, he’s having an actual conversation with Kurt without being weird. Progress. He mentally high fives himself, smiling despite the ugly new addition to his living room.

“Where did you want to go?” Kurt asks, still staring at the abomination of a sofa that, well, at least was cheap enough to leave them enough room in their budget to actually get a coffee table and a few other things they desperately need.

“I don't know.” Blaine lifts his shoulders. “I was thinking Ikea.”

Kurt looks up, interested. “Would you mind if I came along? I actually wanted to look for a new desk lamp.”

Blaine feels a huge grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He'll get to hang out with Kurt for an entire afternoon. Hopefully without making more of a fool of himself than he already has the last few times they so much as crossed paths. “That would be great, actually. I'd probably get lost on my own.”

“Great.” Kurt smiles, then glances shyly at the tips of his polished boots. “So, will Sam be coming too? Or is it just going to be the two of us?”

And just like that, Blaine feels his face fall, heart dropping into his stomach. Because. Oh yeah. Sure. That's why Kurt wants to come. “No,” he says, trying to not let his disappointment show in his voice. “He's out looking for a job. You don't have to come if you … have other plans.”

“No. No, I want to!” Kurt's head snaps up and he looks at Blaine, meeting his eyes, and oh, Blaine could just sink into Kurt's eyes, they're so soft and gorgeous and clear blue today like the sky on a spring morning...

“Okay.”

“If you don't mind.”

“I don't mind,” Blaine assures him. “I'd love the company.”

“Good. Alright.” Kurt smiles, and Blaine has no choice but to smile back. “I'll just get my things and then we can go?”

“Perfect.” Blaine walks him to the door and holds it open for him.

“Oh.” Kurt turns back halfway to his apartment, shoves the paper bag he was carrying at Blaine. “These are for you. The cookies. The cookies of which I made too many. If you want them. They’re chocolate peanut butter, I didn’t know what you - I mean, I always make those. When I’m - stressed.”

“Thank you,” Blaine says, and tries not to shiver too obviously when his fingers brush against Kurt's as he takes the bag.

And with another quick smile, Kurt has unlocked his door and disappeared behind it.

Blaine stays rooted to the spot for another second before he closes his own door, walks over to the ugliest couch on the face of the planet, and lets himself fall onto it backwards. He opens the bag and peeks inside, and they’re actually _chocolate coated_ chocolate peanut butter cookies, and if he hadn’t already thought Kurt was perfect before... 

Smiling dopily, he clutches the bag to his chest as he thinks of perfect brown hair and clear blue eyes and the cutest nose he has ever seen on anyone while he waits for his neighbor to come back.

**

Blaine has never really seen the appeal of shopping at a place like Ikea. It’s impersonal and he prefers things that have a history. The furniture in his bedroom back home had been been partly stuff his parents had picked out and partly things he’d collected over the years from his grandparents, from yard sales, from antique stores, from wherever he could find it.

Being a student, however, he doesn’t have much of a choice, he’s on a tight budget. Turns out though, Ikea is really a lot of fun - at least when Kurt is with him.

Kurt finds his desk lamp and helps Blaine pick out a cheap coffee table and curtains for his room. Blaine tells him about the tragic crocheting accident that covers Sam’s window and Kurt giggles (which is really cute) and makes him promise to show him later.

Before they leave, Kurt finds some cheap throws and suggests Blaine buy them to cover the monstrosity of a couch in his living room.

“I mean, the colors are a bit offensive,” he points out, running his hands over a baby blue one, eyes skeptical. “But definitely less offensive than your couch.”

“I guess you’re right,” Blaine agrees, picking out the ones that don’t actually hurt to look at. “I’ll make Sam pay me back for half of them. It’s his ugly couch, after all.”

They spend another hour in the store after everything is picked out. They sit on every sofa and armchair, trying to read their Swedish names to each other and more than once end up doubled over with laughter.

“How do you even pronounce that?” Blaine reads the tag again, scrunching up his face in confusion. “POÄNG. Do you think those are actual words?”

“I don’t know.” Kurt shakes his head. “But yeah, KNISLINGE? It sounds cute, though.”

“I should come here more often,” Blaine decides. “This is fun.”

Kurt grins at him. “It is.”

It occurs to Blaine on the way home that he’s just spent all afternoon with Kurt and it hasn’t been awkward once. Okay, he’s still really insanely attracted to him and he’s caught himself staring more than once and he probably hasn’t blushed this much in ... well, probably not ever. But, it turns out, Kurt is incredibly easy to talk to. It’s effortless, the way conversation just seems to flow between them once they actually start talking. He smiles widely, happy with the realization. He’s made a friend. He’s sure of it now.

“Blaine?”

He looks up from his seat on the subway train, meeting Kurt’s eyes. “What?”

Kurt laughs. “You weren’t even listening, were you?”

Blaine blushes. Again. “Sorry.”

“I just said I can help you assemble that,” Kurt repeats, pointing at the box with the coffee table that’s sitting between Blaine’s feet. “If you want.”

“Oh.” Blaine grins. “That would be great. Thanks. I have never really done this before.”

“Well, I have,” Kurt says. “I guess a coffee table won’t be too difficult. But I have to admit that I wanted to throw my dresser out the window a few times. The parts just wouldn’t fit.”

“I’ve heard horror stories.” Blaine thinks about Jeff live texting his experience of assembling an Ikea bedroom set and shudders.

“It’s not that bad,” Kurt assures him. “Even though I have to admit that I’ve fixed cars that weren’t as much work as a simple kitchen chair.”

“You know how to fix cars?” Blaine’s head whips around to look at Kurt, taking in his manicured fingernails, his clothes, his perfect hair. Nothing about him exactly screams ‘car mechanic.’

“My dad owns a garage. I practically grew up in there. It’s how I made extra money during summer breaks.”

 _Marry me_ , Blaine thinks. “Oh,” is all he can think of to say.

 

**Day 12 - Movie Night**

“So what are we watching?” Blaine calls, dropping onto the now throw-covered couch. He’s in his favorite pajamas, tired but happy. His first week of classes has gone well; he thinks he likes college. And right now he’s looking forward to a lot of pizza and a movie with his best friend Sam who has finally found a job in a small diner down the street. They’re celebrating.

“I don’t know,” Sam calls from the kitchen where he’s digging into a bag of chips, unable to wait for their pizza to arrive. “ _Star Wars_?”

Blaine groans. “Not again!”

“But -”

“No!”

“Just -”

“I mean it.”

“It’s my favorite - ”

“There must be other options,” Blaine says, pleading.

Sam joins him on the couch, sighing. “Fine. Whatever. We should probably ask Kurt what he likes, too.”

Blaine’s head snaps up. “Kurt?”

Sam shrugs. “I ran into him earlier and he said he didn’t have plans for tonight, so I invited him.”

“You -”

“Is that a problem?” Sam eyes him suspiciously.

“No, of course, not, but -”

“I don’t get why you don’t like him,” Sam says. “He’s a really cool dude.”

“What?” Blaine shakes his head vehemently. “No, no, I know, he’s...”

“I mean,” Sam shrugs, sighing. “If it’s that much of a problem, I can tell him you’re sick or busy or something and we can hang out some other time. But you know, they live right next door and I just thought it might be nice to have some friends here.”

Blaine opens and closes his mouth, not sure how to respond. When did he come off as seeming as if he didn’t like Kurt? They went to Ikea together. Which he hasn’t told Sam, since he didn’t want him to be jealous that he took someone else shopping for things for their new apartment, but still... 

“Of course he can come over,” he finally says. “It’s okay. Really.”

“Just ... be nice, okay?” Sam warns him. “I mean -”

“You think I’m not nice to him?” Blaine asks, feeling sick all of a sudden. They made progress these past few days, but if Sam says - what if Kurt thinks - 

“I don’t know.” Sam seems to think about it, shoving another handful of chips into his mouth while he does. “You don’t ever really say much when he’s over and you barely even look at him. I figured -”

“I’ll be nicer,” Blaine promises. “I will. Honestly. I just, just let me go get changed...”

“Changed?” Sam looks him up and down, frowning. “Why?”

Blaine opens and closes his mouth, brain working to find an excuse that’s less embarrassing than the truth. He doesn’t want to hang out with Kurt wearing Batman pajamas, and his hair is a mess too, and Sam is in jeans and t-shirt so it would be weird for him to sit around in pajamas, wouldn’t it? “I’m cold,” he explains. It’s the best he can come up with.

“Oh.” Sam nods, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Sure.”

“I’ll be right back.” Blaine jumps up, racing to his room where he leans back against the closed door, trying to calm his breathing. _So much for a quiet night in_.

**

Kurt is in the living room talking with Sam when Blaine returns. He looks as gorgeous as ever, and Blaine has another piece of information about Kurt to file away - he even makes wearing a hoodie and jeans look like high fashion. Blaine at least is wearing real clothes now and his hair superficially tamed. It’s not as flat as he likes, but it’s the best he could do on such short notice and at least he doesn’t look crazy anymore. (He hopes.)

“Hi,” he says, trying to sound casual and like greeting a friend, when at the same time his stomach is doing somersaults.

Kurt looks up at him, a small smile on his lips and that by now so familiar blush on his cheeks. “Hi.” His voice sounds high, breathy, and Blaine’s heart drops, because oh yeah, Sam is here. Kurt likes Sam. Which is really immensely unfair. Blaine thinks he could be a good boyfriend. Not that he has any practice or experience. But still. He’d bring Kurt flowers, he’d make him breakfast in bed, he’d sing to him every night, he would be _so good at it_.

“We’re watching _Pirates of the Caribbean_ ,” Sam informs him. “That okay?”

“Sure.” Blaine walks over to the couch and Kurt makes room for him by scooting toward the middle of the couch, closer to Sam. _Of course_. He sits down with a sigh, trying to see the silver lining here. At least Kurt is here. Here and entirely not interested. But whatever. Hanging out can still be fun, right?

**

Blaine can’t deny that it makes him a tiny bit upset to have to listen to Kurt laughing at Sam’s horrible Jack Sparrow impression. He likes Sam’s impressions, he does. But he doesn’t really sound like Jack Sparrow at all. Funny how he’d never realized that before tonight.

“ _But why is the rum gone_ ,” Sam wails, and Kurt giggles.

Blaine contemplates locking himself in his room until the movie is over, but that would be childish and immature, and if he wants to win Kurt over, that’s probably not the best way to go.

So he stays put, focusing on the screen, trying to enjoy one of his favorite movies.

He still can’t help glancing up every few minutes to quietly study Kurt’s profile. It’s getting dark in the living room and he can’t even see individual freckles anymore. They’re never easy to see, though, Kurt must do something to conceal them. Blaine wishes he wouldn’t. They’re so cute.

The next time he looks up, he finds Kurt’s eyes already on him, an unreadable expression on his face.

Kurt blushes and looks away immediately, as does Blaine. Stupidly, he feels his heart speeding up, even if he knows Kurt was probably just contemplating the best way to get rid of him so he could be alone with Sam.

God, he should really talk to him about this Sam not being gay thing. Or make Sam do it. He would hate to see Kurt get hurt because he didn’t know.

He’ll do it. The first chance he gets, he’ll talk to Kurt, tell him to not get his hopes up. It’s the polite thing to do and not selfish at all. He’s just looking out for a friend, that’s all.

**

“And feel free to bring over more cookies whenever you want,” Sam says, as they’re saying goodbye to Kurt by the door.

“Sam.” Blaine elbows him in the ribs to stop him from being rude.

“What? They were awesome.”

“Thanks.” Kurt laughs. “I always make too many, so it’s no big deal.”

“You’re totally invited to the next movie night, too,” Sam says, raising his fist. Kurt bumps it with his own without hesitation. Apparently, he’s a fast learner.

“Until next time, then,” he says, looking at Blaine.

“Yeah, I -” Blaine raises an arm to take Kurt’s hand, changes tactics midway because he kind of wants to hug him instead, and ends up giving him a really awkward wave that involves his entire upper body and probably looks more like a seizure. “See you.” He kicks himself mentally, wondering if he’ll ever stop behaving like an idiot around this boy.

Kurt, however, just smiles, and then walks across the hall to his own apartment.

“So.” Sam grins at him as soon as the door is closed. “Don’t tell me he isn’t awesome. Come on. We can totally be friends with him, right?”

Blaine shakes his head, no words coming to mind. “I’m going to bed,” he says finally.

 

**Day 17 – Groceries**

“Here, let me help you with that.”

Blaine doesn’t even manage to look up before strong hands are lifting one of the heavy bags out of his arms and he stops cursing, catches his breath, looks up into Kurt’s eyes which are green today. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

“Sam was supposed to help me carry all of that, but he’s stuck at work.”

“How much do you guys _eat_?” Kurt frowns at the bags, starts climbing the stairs next to Blaine.

“Oh, it’s for the entire week, we don’t usually have time to go shopping in between classes and stuff.”

“Oh, okay.”

They arrive at Blaine’s door and Kurt takes another bag so Blaine has a hand free to unlock it. Kurt helps him carry everything into the kitchen, then stands there for a moment, smiling.

Blaine waits, wanting to say something, anything, to make Kurt stay for a while.

“Well, tell Sam I said hello,” Kurt says eventually, and with another smile, he leaves.

“Sure,” Blaine mutters, and for once doesn’t resist the urge to bang his head against the kitchen cupboards. Repeatedly.

 

**Day 26 - Coffee Shop**

Blaine has discovered the coffee shop around the corner during his second week in New York, and he likes to go there to read or just have a coffee and people watch. He thinks that once his classes pick up, he might try studying here. Sitting at one of the small tables with a cup of coffee and a book somehow makes him feel like a real New Yorker.

Except that the book he’s brought today turns out to be pretty boring, and he’s contemplating leaving and just making Sam teach him a few new guitar chords, when a familiar voice speaks up behind him.

“Hi.”

“Kurt. Hi!” He turns around in his chair, starts standing up, realizes he has no idea what to do once he’s standing, and drops back down, coming to sit awkwardly on the edge of the chair. It’s not really comfortable, but he puts on a smile and balances his weight so he won’t fall, pretending that this is exactly how he meant to be sitting. “What are you doing here?”

Kurt grins and raises his own coffee cup in explanation and Blaine feels himself blush. “Of course, yeah. Coffee. Me too. Coffee. I’m having coffee too.”

Kurt laughs. “Yes, I figured.”

“Oh. Um.” Blaine blinks at him for a few seconds, trying to think of what to do next, then gestures to the empty chair at the other side of the table. “Sit. I mean -” he takes a deep breath, ordering his thoughts through the embarrassment. “Would you like to sit? For a minute? Or more. I mean, you don’t have to leave after a minute, if you want to stay. But if you’re busy, that’s okay, I just -”

“Thanks,” Kurt cuts him off, walks around the table and drops into the chair. “I’d love to.”

Kurt smiles at him and Blaine just stares, smiling back until it becomes awkward, then lowers his gaze to the table top. He’s not sure how to proceed from here, and why does this always happen when he hasn’t seen Kurt in a few days? He knows this isn’t difficult. He knows it’s easy with Kurt. He knows how to make friends. He’s made quite a lot during his first days of classes. He’s eloquent, charming when he wants to be. Except sometimes around Kurt. Whenever Kurt is around there’s a fifty percent chance of him just going weird. It’s a problem.

“So. Are you here by yourself?” Kurt wants to know, and Blaine’s heart sinks even further.

“Yes,” he says, making himself look up. “Sam is at work.”

“Oh. Okay.” Kurt nods at him, gives him a look Blaine can’t decipher.

“I like coming here,” Blaine continues, just to have something to say. “It’s ... nice.”

Kurt takes a sip of his coffee. “I come here a lot,” he confesses. “The coffee is good.”

“It’s really good,” Blaine agrees.

Kurt smiles at him, silence settling between them for a few seconds, before Kurt clears his throat. “Any weekend plans?”

Blaine shakes his head. “Nope. Probably just going to sleep in. Maybe try to see a bit more of the city. I haven’t really done any touristy stuff yet and I don’t want to wait until I’m too much of a New Yorker and think it’s uncool or something.”

Kurt laughs at that. “Sounds like a good idea. I didn’t do any of the touristy things when I came here and it kind of does feel too late now.” He sighs. “I kind of regret it.”

“Oh. I’m. Um.” Blaine bites his lip, fighting down the blush creeping up his neck, willing himself to just say it. They’re neighbors. They’re _almost_ friends. It’s not a big deal. Taking a deep breath, he looks up, not quite meeting Kurt’s eyes, instead focusing at his nose. “You could. Come. With me. If you want.”

When Kurt doesn’t answer immediately, he makes himself look into his eyes and is met with a surprised stare. Being caught, Kurt quickly seems to snap out of it, his mouth twisting into a delighted smile and his eyes so clear, so clear...

“I’d love that!”

Blaine feels his eyes widen in shock, happily surprised. “Really?”

“Of course! This is perfect.”

He sounds sincere, and Blaine feels a tiny flicker of hope, and dammit, he knows he shouldn’t be so naive, but he’ll regret it later if he has to. Right now, he takes it as good news. “Great. When do you -”

“This Saturday? Let’s start early? So we can get a lot of ground covered?” Kurt asks, and Blaine hurries to nod.

“That’s tomorrow.”

Kurt hesitates. “It is.”

Blaine beams. “Perfect. Yes. Absolutely.” So what if he’d been meaning to sleep until noon, this is a much, much better plan.

 

**Day 27 - We’re Not Dating**

“My feet hurt,” Blaine whines, dropping onto the couch in Kurt’s living room. Kurt has invited him in, and if he weren’t so tired, he’d totally celebrate the fact that this is the first time he’s been invited into Kurt and Santana’s apartment.

“Mine too.” Kurt sighs, dropping onto the seat next to Blaine. “It was fun, though.”

Blaine lets his head drop against the backrest, rolls it sideways until he can grin up at Kurt. “It really was. We didn’t even cover half the stuff on our list, though.”

“We’ll just have to go again at some point,” Kurt says, before he lets out a groan and stretches his legs until his feet are resting on the coffee table. “Once my feet start talking to me again.”

Biting back an excited squeal because _Kurt wants to go sightseeing with him again to finish off their list_ , Blaine takes a calming breath before he speaks, his voice only a little breathy. “We totally should.”

“Do you maybe want a cup of coffee?” Kurt asks.

And yes, he’d kill for a cup of coffee right now. “Absolutely.”

Kurt grins at him. “Oh, good. If you’re making some anyway, bring me a cup too, will you?”

Blaine laughs. “Hey, it’s your apartment, aren’t you supposed to offer refreshments to your guests?”

“Oh, but I am,” Kurt explains in a serious tone. “I’m offering to let you use my kitchen if you really want something to drink.”

“But I’m your guest,” Blaine tries, and, okay, this is fun. Kurt is fun. Not that he didn’t know that.

“I’m the one who bought the coffee, the mugs, and the coffee maker, so I really think it’s your turn now.” He sinks deeper into the couch cushions, blinking at Blaine in a way that might be flirty if they would actually ever flirt, which they never do, because Kurt has a crush on Sam.

Right now, Blaine doesn’t let that ruin his mood. “So, we’re at an impasse,” he sighs.

“Seems that way.”

“How about -” Blaine pretends to think about it for a second, before sighing deeply. “How about we both get up to make coffee? Suffer through this together? I mean, it _is_ an awfully long way to your kitchen...”

“You mean, we both get coffee or neither of us gets one?”

“That’s the idea.”

Their eyes meet again, and Blaine can’t look away, even if he wanted to, because Kurt’s face is still a little red from the air outside and his eyes are a mix of blue and green and they crinkle a little at the corners even as he keeps his lips pressed together, suppressing the obvious wide smile in his eyes.

Finally, Kurt lets his shoulders sag, throwing up his hands in defeat. “Fiiiine,” he concedes. “If you insist. I guess it’s fair.”

“Does that mean I win?” Blaine asks, watching from his seat on the couch as Kurt scrambles to his feet.

“No, that means we both lose since we both have to get up right now,” Kurt explains, extending a hand to Blaine. “So. Up. Come on.”

Blaine lets Kurt pull him to his feet, and all the way to the kitchen island his hand is tingling pleasantly where Kurt had touched it.

**

“You look happy,” Sam comments as Blaine stumbles back into the apartment an hour later on aching feet.

Blaine just grins at him and shrugs his shoulders, not quite knowing how to summarize the day he’s had in words that Sam or anyone else would understand. So, he knows he shouldn’t have as much fun pining after Kurt as he is. He doesn’t understand it himself. But when it’s just them, he can almost forget that they’re just friends who are not dating. It _feels_ like they’re flirting half of the time.

“I’m glad you and Kurt get along now,” Sam says. “I never really understood why you were being so weird around him.”

Blaine lies down on the floor next to the couch, needing to stretch his back after walking all day. “Yeah, he’s ... he’s really cool,” he answers, not caring to correct Sam on his mistake. “He’s funny. And smart. And we just talked a lot and he likes karaoke, too, and we thought maybe we could go together sometime. I mean, he’s a musical theater major, and I haven’t even heard him sing yet, so -”

“Wow,” Sam cuts him off. “Okay. You totally have a crush on him.”

“What?” Blaine sits up. “No, I don’t.”

“You do,” Sam insists, a delighted expression on his face that turns confused the next second. “Wait, just like that? Last week you barely spoke two words to him when he was over.”

Blaine shakes his head. “I wasn’t -”

But Sam is already way ahead of him. “This is awesome. I’ve been telling you he was a great guy. I’m real happy for you, man!” Sam leans forward to slap Blaine’s shoulder, sounding a lot more excited than Blaine feels all of a sudden.

“It’s not like we’re getting married or anything,” he mumbles. “We’re not even dating.”

“But he totally likes you too, I can tell,” Sam says, bouncing on his seat.

“He does?” Blaine gives him a confused look. “I’m pretty sure that he -”

“Totally!” Sam nods emphatically. “I mean, he’s over all the time bringing you cookies and borrowing DVDs even though I’m pretty sure he doesn’t care about any of the _Star Trek_ movies, and he always sits next to you when we hang out.”

Blaine thinks about it. Because. Could it be? But ... no. Kurt is doing all these things for _Sam_. He always blushes when Sam is around. He asks for Sam every time it’s just the two of them. So, Sam has it all wrong. “That doesn’t have to mean anything,” he says thoughtfully.

Sam waves it off. “Come on. It absolutely does. You should ask him out on a real date!”

Blaine snorts, because yeah, he does not need that kind of humiliation in his life, being rejected by the guy he wants to marry and getting stuck in the friend zone or the zone for extremely awkward acquaintances for the rest of his life. “I’m not looking for a boyfriend right now,” he says haughtily, getting up off the floor. “And I’m going to bed. Well. I’m going to shower. And then bed. Good night.”

He leaves Sam in the living room, hears the muted sounds of some science fiction movie from the TV through the bathroom door as he leans against the sink and takes a look in the mirror.

He needs a plan. If he wants to win Kurt, he needs some kind of a plan.

He tilts his head from side to side, studying himself. His hair could be better, he supposes, but his face is - well, it’s fine. And he knows for a fact that Kurt likes the sweater vests and bow ties. He has said so on more than one occasion. His personality - he’s pretty sure he’s a likable enough guy. He has the friends to prove it, and he’s been in New York for four weeks and three guys have already hit on him. Well. Two. He’s pretty sure the third one was just drunk when he fell asleep with his head on Blaine’s shoulder on the subway.

Whatever. He’s going to do this. He’s going to woo Kurt. Properly.

He takes a deep breath, formulating the beginnings of a plan.

Step one: tell Kurt that Sam is straight.

Step two: ...well. He’s pretty sure he’ll come up with that when the time is right.

 

**Day 41 - Hot Guys in Tiny Shorts**

It’s quite a beautiful day, so Blaine grabs the book he has to read for class and decides to head to the park. He misses spending time outdoors; the longest time he ever spends out in the sun now is when he sits outside in the quad between classes.

He is pulling the apartment door closed behind him when the idea occurs to him - and of course his palms immediately start to sweat and his heart beats double time, but he has to at least try. _Courage_ , he tells himself, crossing the hallway to Kurt and Santana’s door. Knowing his luck, it will probably be Santana who answers the door and he’ll have been nervous for nothing.

It’s Kurt who answers the door and he looks gorgeous. Well, he always does, so that’s not surprising to Blaine. Still, he ends up just staring for what feels like a minute, opening and closing his mouth like a fish while Kurt smiles at him.

“Yes?” Kurt asks after several moments of silence, and Blaine finally manages to find his voice.

“Um,” he starts eloquently, holding up his book and waving it around. “I was gonna study. I mean. In the park. Because it’s so nice out. And I was thinking. Since it’s so nice today … that. Maybe. You’d wanna go too? And study? Or just, like, hang out. If you want. Unless you’re busy or something -”

“That sounds great, actually,” Kurt interrupts him and Blaine has never felt more grateful to be interrupted in his life. He doesn’t know why this keeps happening. He can be charming and eloquent around Kurt, and then they don’t see each other in a few days and it just makes his brain shut down the next time they come face to face.

“Really?” He feels the grin spreading across his face and bounces on his feet a little.

Kurt nods. “I was just thinking that it’s a shame to just sit here and not take advantage of the last few days of sun we’re probably gonna have this year. So, I’d love to go. With you.”

Blaine beams at him. “Great! I don’t really like studying on my own,” he adds quickly, unsure of really how much excitement is too much excitement, considering that this doesn’t mean to Kurt what it means to him.

“Just let me grab my things,” Kurt says, hesitating a second. “Would you like to wait inside? It may take a few minutes.”

“Sure,” Blaine agrees, walking past Kurt who only takes about half a step back to let Blaine pass. Which kind of makes Blaine realize that Kurt smells _amazing_.

He sits down on the couch in the living room while Kurt runs around the apartment, gathering books and changing his sweater and putting on shoes. He likes Kurt’s living room. It’s cozy, kept in warm colors, and definitely more tasteful than Sam and Blaine’s. Not that Blaine doesn’t like their _Star Wars_ posters and Sam’s shot glass collection. But the large (and framed) Audrey Hepburn poster that hangs on the wall above Kurt’s TV is definitely something he’d like to have in his living room as well.

“Ready to go?” Kurt asks a few minutes later, and Blaine jumps up, grins, and follows Kurt outside.

It’s a short walk to the park and Blaine listens to Kurt talking about his classes and the assignment he had been working on all morning - they’re doing duets in voice class and apparently he’s been very lucky with his duet partner. Some girl from his class who has great taste in music. Kurt tells him they’ve been emailing song suggestions back and forth for days and they’ve narrowed it down to five possible songs and Blaine - can’t look away from Kurt’s face when he talks about music. He just seems to light up, his eyes sparkling and a happy smile on his face.

And then their hands brush because the sidewalk is narrow here and Kurt turns his head to look at him, and Blaine blushes, looks down at his feet as he keeps walking. _Damn_. He just really likes Kurt, okay?

They find a nice empty bench in the park, in the shade of a tall tree, the sound of some kids playing soccer carrying over faintly. For about half an hour Blaine manages to concentrate on his homework, before he simply drops the book and lets his head fall back, arms splayed along the wood of the backrest.

“I love late summer,” he announces.

Kurt looks up from his own reading, smiles at him, his eyes a sea-like blueish green in the soft sunlight. “Yeah. Me too.” He doesn’t look away and neither can Blaine. Because _damn_ Kurt is pretty.

“Maybe coming to the park wasn’t such a good idea after all,” Blaine says once he thinks it’s really not appropriate to just stare wordlessly anymore.

Kurt raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “Oh?”

Blaine nods quickly, swallows around the lump in his throat. “Because I don’t feel like studying anymore.” He thinks this may be the time. Right now. He could talk to Kurt. They’re alone, it’s a beautiful day, and Blaine promised himself that he would. Sooner rather than later. Maybe that time is now.

“I don’t really feel like studying either.” Kurt sighs, closing his book and dropping it onto the bench next to his thigh. “Actually, I feel like having ice cream.”

“I like that idea,” Blaine agrees. Partly because he really wants ice cream. Mostly though because it means spending a little more time with Kurt. Maybe gathering the courage to finally let him know about Sam. And then maybe asking him out. And then maybe proposing to him and starting to plan their beautiful spring wedding, which they will have right here in this park, because it’s where he first confessed his undying love … Or maybe he should just really stop skipping lunch, because apparently being hungry is making him weird.

He’s about to get up when Kurt reaches out and pulls him back down, nodding toward the rapidly approaching group of joggers who are sweating their way across the park.

“Oh, right.” Blaine gets out of the way, waiting for the men to pass. The very attractive, nicely muscled men. In very short shorts. And no shirts. He can’t help glancing over at Kurt, who watches the group with an approving smile, a faint blush high on his cheeks.

“I always thought about joining a running group,” Blaine says before his brain has fully processed the words coming out of his mouth.

“They do that really well,” Kurt comments, tearing his eyes away from the retreating guys with a little shake of his head. He laughs nervously, clearing his throat as he looks back at Blaine. “Sorry, that was shallow.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I was actually thinking the same thing,” Blaine assures him. Because dammit, of course he appreciates a nice view. But that’s totally not what he wants to talk about right now. Except … “And they’re probably all straight,” he says, shrugging his shoulders, grinning a little because he can’t help it. He’s a genius. This might be the conversation starter he has been looking for.

“Ugh, I know.” Kurt leans back, not quite meeting Blaine’s eyes. “But even if they weren’t …” he trails off, and Blaine waits for a second, not sure if Kurt wants to say more.

“Well, we’ve all had our crushes on straight guys, right?” he tries, hoping he’ll manage to guide this conversation in the right direction eventually.

“It happens.” Kurt shrugs it off.

“Yeah, but …” Blaine takes another breath, trying to think of some way to bring up Sam. This is ridiculous. Why can’t he just tell Kurt? “It really sucks, doesn’t it?”

Kurt turns toward him, a sympathetic smile on his face, a twinge of sadness in his eyes. “I know. I know it does.”

Blaine leans forward a little, steeling himself for just getting it out, finally. “I just … I mean …”

Kurt’s eyes are so clear and there’s so much warmth in his gaze as he reaches out, puts a comforting hand on Blaine’s arm. “Come on,” he says. “I’m going to buy you some ice cream.”

Blaine deflates, shoulders dropping as he abandons his plan for today. He just … can’t get the words out right now. And Kurt really seems to want ice cream. And, to be honest, Blaine does too. “Okay,” he agrees. “But you’re gonna let me pay next time.”

Kurt bites his bottom lip, looks down at his feet almost shyly before meeting Blaine’s eyes again. “Alright,” he says. “Deal.”

“Thank you.” Blaine wishes they could just keep sitting here for a moment longer, knees almost touching, Kurt’s hand warm on his forearm.

But Kurt draws back, getting up, smiles down at Blaine as he gathers his things. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

And, Blaine thinks, at least this is some kind of progress. They’re friends. Officially. He can totally work with that.

 

**Day 52 - Coffee Shop**

Blaine sits at his favorite table. Because he has one now. He’s been in New York for almost two months, so he’s basically a native by now. Or at least very good at pretending to be one. He has some of his homework spread out on the table and he’s on his third refill, starting to feel a little jittery. Maybe having two cups at home before going to a coffee shop was not the best idea after all.

“Hey, Frodo.”

He looks up to see Santana sliding into the seat on the other side of the table. “Hi,” he greets, a little surprised. For all the times he’s been hanging out with Kurt, he hasn’t really seen too much of her yet.

“We need to talk,” she informs him, adjusting the neckline of her very tight dress.

Blaine carefully puts down his pen, folding his hands on top of his book to stall for time. This is weird. “Okay,” he finally says. “What do we need to talk about?”

“I need you to do something about this ridiculous thing with Ladypants Hummel, because his moping is making me depressed and nobody wants to see a depressed cage dancer.”

Blaine raises both eyebrows at her. “You cage dance?”

Santana waves a hand through the air impatiently. “I do, and I’m great at it - but that’s not the point.”

“So the point is...” Blaine trails off, not entirely sure what she wants him to do.

“The point is that Kurt is pining and you can do something about it, but you’re kind of being an asshole. So I’m coming to you as Kurt’s best friend to tell you that this needs to stop. Do we understand each other?” Santana fixes him with an icy stare and Blaine gulps.

He has been meaning to talk to Kurt for so long, because it’s the right thing to do, but it’s not like it’s actually his responsibility. He doesn’t understand why Santana has to be so rude about it. And if she has noticed what he has noticed and calls herself Kurt’s best friend, then why can’t she do it and make this less awkward? “Why don’t you do it?” he suggests, hoping not to sound too much like a petulant child. “Why don’t you just tell him?”

Santana gapes at him, shaking her head. “Are you serious? I _really_ think you can do this yourself. God, how old are you? Five?”

Blaine shakes his head at her, getting slightly angry now. “I don’t see why -”

But Santana gets up, grabbing her paper cup to head for the door. “We’re done talking about this now,” she decides. “Now I suggest you grow a pair, or I’m going to come after you. I know where you live, dwarflord.” She stops a few feet away, meeting his eyes, her face more serious than he has ever seen her. “And you better really think this through, okay? If you hurt him, I’m burning all of your hideous bow ties. Got it?”

Blaine just nods, lost for words at the moment.

What the hell just happened?

Whatever it was, he knows he’ll have to talk to Kurt now one way or another. He likes his bow ties.

And he really doesn’t think that Santana was kidding.

 

**Day 55 - Wait, What??**

It’s Saturday; Blaine has no classes, Sam is at work, he saw Santana leave earlier when he went out to get the mail, and he knows that Kurt is home because he heard him singing earlier when he stopped in the hallway to press his ear to their door. Because he stumbled. Not because he was checking. He stumbled and needed a minute (or five) to regain his balance. That’s all.

It’s just after 11:00 am and he really has nothing to do - other than homework, which he couldn’t focus on right now anyway. Turning on the TV, he switches channels randomly, not even caring what’s on the screen. He keeps it up for about ten minutes before he turns it off again and lets the remote drop to the floor.

Groaning, he lets his head fall back and stares up at the ceiling, quietly cursing the fact that he has run out of excuses. He has no more ideas how to talk himself out of doing this, no more excuses for not talking to Kurt, he wanted to do this weeks ago, _and_ he has Santana breathing down his neck now. What he needs to do is get this over with, he’ll feel better afterwards.

For a few minutes he contemplates cleaning the bathroom (which they should really do more often), or maybe reorganizing his sock drawer. It has to get done. At some point. But maybe not now.

With a heavy sigh, he gets up, glad he decided to dress nicely this morning. Well, he had planned to do this today. So.

He still goes to check his hair in the mirror, but it looks fine, and he’s left with no further way of stalling.

So he walks out his door and across the hall, knocking on Kurt’s door before his courage leaves him. His palms are sweating and he quickly wipes them on his jeans while he waits.

Kurt looks surprised to see him when he opens the door. Beautiful as ever, but definitely surprised.

“Blaine,” he greets. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Blaine swallows, wishing he had formulated a plan before coming over. He doesn’t really know what to say now, rubs his neck absentmindedly, shifting from one foot to the other. “I was just … Are you busy? I can come back later...” He shrugs, waving a hand back at his door.

Kurt shakes his head, holding the door open as he takes a step back. “No, that’s okay. Do you want to come in?”

Blaine nods, heart fluttering in his chest. He has no idea what he’s doing. “Yes. Okay. That’s … Thank you. Yes.”

Kurt closes the door behind him and then they just stand there, awkwardly looking at each other until Kurt blushes and turns his head so he’s staring at a spot on the opposite wall. “Do you … would you like something to drink?”

“No.” Blaine takes a deep breath, mind racing to come up with a way to start this conversation. Except, he can’t think of anything.

“Is everything all right?” Kurt asks, apparently catching onto the fact that Blaine is behaving even weirder than usual.

“No, it’s fine, I’m fine,” Blaine says quickly. “ I just … I was … bored?” he tries. “Sorry. If I’m keeping you from something … I was just hoping you might want to hang out a bit.” There. That’s it. That’s a good way to start. They can hang out and he’ll bring it up in conversation. He likes that plan.

“Sounds good,” Kurt answers, smiling. “I didn’t really have plans for today either, and Santana is out doing … something. I didn’t ask. It’s always best not to ask.”

“Awesome.” Blaine attempts a smile too, hoping it looks genuine. “So, what do you want to do?”

**

They’re fifteen minutes into _Moonrise Kingdom_ , and Blaine still has no idea how to do this. Maybe agreeing to watch something wasn’t a smart idea after all, because now they’re not talking, and talking is kind of what he came over here for. Maybe he should switch tactics and write Kurt a letter. Or he could excuse himself to the bathroom and lock the door and text Kurt from there.

This really sucks. He’s going to break Kurt’s heart. He is a little surprised that Kurt hasn’t caught on yet, since Sam has definitely talked about girls in front of him. But maybe he just thinks he’s bi or something. It’s possible. Well, whatever Kurt thinks right now, by the end of this day, he’s gonna know the truth. And Blaine is gonna be the asshole who has to crush his dreams of a happily ever after with Sam in a nice suburban family home with two kids and a dog, bickering over whose turn it is to take out the trash and he hates himself for it.

For now, though, Blaine just keeps fidgeting in his seat, tugging on his sleeves to adjust them, crossing and uncrossing his legs nervously.

“I’m getting water, do you want anything?” Kurt asks way too close and Blaine jumps, letting out a little yelp. He hadn’t even noticed that Kurt had paused the movie. He quickly turns the yelp into a cough, croaking, “...water. I guess. Some water would be great, thanks.”

Kurt eyes him with a worried expression. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“What?” Blaine smiles, heart beating double time. “Yeah, no, I’m fine. I’m okay.”

“Okay,” Kurt says, not sounding convinced, and leaves for the kitchen.

He returns a minute later with two glasses, handing Blaine one of them and sits down, unpausing the movie with a little concerned glance in Blaine’s direction.

Blaine gulps it down in a matter of seconds and then starts playing with the empty glass, hardly noticing what happens on the screen.

It takes another ten minutes or so before Kurt hits pause again.

“Okay, what’s up?” he asks.

Blaine shakes his head. “Nothing, nothing. I’m … it’s nothing.”

Kurt scoots a little closer on the couch, reaching out for Blaine’s hands to still them and pry the glass from his fingers, setting it down on the coffee table. “That’s not true, though. You’ve been jumpy since you came over.”

Blaine fidgets, empty hands itching to find something else to play with, anything to distract him right now. “I’m sorry -” he starts, but Kurt cuts him off.

“No. Stop that. Come on, we’re friends. You can talk to me. If you want. If there’s anything I can do...”

“It’s...” Blaine takes a deep breath. Okay, then. Looks like he’s not getting out of this. He might as well get it over with. “It’s about Sam,” he says. There. He finally started the conversation they were supposed to have weeks ago.

“What about Sam?” Kurt asks, brow furrowed.

“He’s...” Blaine swallows, feeling his palms start to sweat again. _This is it. No backing out now. You can do this_. “Well. He’s. Straight.” Okay. Well, that wasn’t so difficult after all. Now Kurt is going to be shocked, disappointed, and they’re probably gonna change the movie to _Moulin Rouge_ because he knows that’s what Kurt watches when he needs a good cry, and they will talk about it and he’ll comfort Kurt and...

Kurt takes both of Blaine’s hands in his, thumbs gently stroking across Blaine’s knuckles. “I know,” he says, voice gentle. “I know.”

“Oh, good, I thought … wait.” Blaine sits up straight, because Kurt looks concerned instead of upset and something doesn’t add up here at all. “You know?”

“Of course I do. I mean, he was hitting on Santana the other day … wait.” Kurt sits up too, fortunately without letting go of Blaine’s hands, because yeah, that feels really nice. “You _didn’t_ know?” he asks incredulously. “But...”

“What?” Blaine is confused now. What are they talking about here? “No, of course I did, he’s my best friend.”

“I know, that’s why I thought...” Kurt shakes his head, looking puzzled for a second before his eyes soften again, his thumbs resuming the very comforting stroking. “How long have you had feelings for him?”

Blaine opens and closes his mouth, needing a second until his brain catches up with the turn this conversation is taking. “I don’t have feelings for Sam,” he says, slowly, confused.

Kurt nods, his face still full of concern and sympathy. “I’ve been there, believe me,” he says. “The last straight guy I had a crush on? He ended up becoming my step brother and dating my best friend from high school. I assume it’s not any less weird when it’s a best friend. I just want you to know that I understand. You don’t have to pretend with me. You can talk to me.”

“But...” Blaine isn’t really sure how they got to this point in the conversation at all. “But I don’t have a crush on Sam. _You_ do,” he clarifies.

Kurt goes pale, then blushes, then drops Blaine’s hands. “I … _what_? Why … No, I don’t.”

“Wait, you thought _I_ had a crush on Sam?” Blaine asks, that part finally really sinking in.

“Uh...” Kurt blushes again. “Yes?”

“Well, I don’t.”

Kurt sighs. “Yeah, well, neither do I.”

“I just … You … It seemed so...”

“I don’t have a crush on _Sam_ ,” Kurt says, blushing harder and scooching back a few inches, the atmosphere between them changing, subtly, but still noticeably. He’s staring down at his hands which are now folded in his lap.

“Then why … Okay, I am so sorry.” Blaine deflates, feeling stupid all of a sudden. “I guess I … completely misread everything.”

Kurt laughs nervously, looking a bit sad. “Well, so did I, obviously.”

Blaine nods, taking a few seconds to process all this new information. Kurt does not have a crush on his roommate and best friend. So all the blushing, the asking if Sam was gonna join them every time they hung out, Santana’s weird threat...

“Hang on,” Blaine says, thinking out loud. “Then what was Santana talking about the other day?”

Kurt goes pale. “What did she do?” he asks. “I’m gonna kill her. She is _so_ dead, seriously - ”

“She threatened to burn my bow ties.”

“Why?” Kurt wrinkles his eyebrows in confusion, but, Blaine thinks, he looks scared. Just a little.

And Blaine - starts to think that maybe, _maybe_ this could all be a lot easier than he thought and _oh god_ , he’s really been an idiot this whole time, hasn’t he? “Kurt?” He makes himself look at him, as much as he wants to hide from the way it will hurt if he got it wrong again. “Who - did she mean - ” 

“Well, what do you think?” Kurt asks, annoyed but with a little embarrassed smile on his face. “I thought you knew. I thought I had been pretty obvious.” He groans again, slumping back against the couch. “God, I suck at this.”

“...oh.” It seems to be the only word left in Blaine’s vocabulary for the moment. Because - this is news. This is good news, actually. No, this is _great_ news, _amazing_ news, the best news he has heard in, well, ever. He’s gonna start feeling happy about it in a second. As soon as he stops panicking. “Are you sure?” he asks, because he just, he can’t get this wrong. Not this.

Kurt looks at him, his smile sarcastic, but his eyes still warm and a little wet, embarrassment still shining through a little. “Yes, Blaine,” he says calmly, his voice controlled as if he’s steeling himself for rejection. “I’m sure.”

“Oh, good.” Blaine feels a rush of relief, bounces on his seat a little. “Me too.”

“You too what?” Kurt asks, quietly.

It’s Blaine’s turn to blush now, and promptly his palms start sweating again as his heart rate increases. He inches forward on the couch, sitting a little closer to Kurt, hoping this is okay. Even if he knows now that Kurt sort of ... likes him? this is still a little scary. “Um,” he starts. “That day when we went sightseeing together?” he asks as if divulging his biggest secret, waiting for Kurt’s nod. “I spent all day pretending it was a date. In my head.”

“I did, too,” Kurt admits, his smile getting a little wider, some of the nervousness fading from his eyes.

“Really?” Blaine asks, and god, Kurt looks so beautiful, and his bottom lip is so red and shiny where he keeps biting down on it. “Why didn’t you ever … say anything, or make a move or something?”

Kurt rolls his eyes at him. “Because I thought you had a crush on Sam. Besides. You could have made a move too, anytime.”

“Well, no,” Blaine explains. “Because I thought that _you_ had a crush on Sam.”

Kurt laughs and Blaine has no choice but to join in.

“This is seriously ridiculous,” Kurt breathes, rubbing his neck with one hand.

“Kind of,” Blaine answers, but then he has an idea. “So, hey. If we both thought about that day being a date, we could just say it was one. In retrospect,” Blaine suggests, his insides still squirming with the slight fear of being turned down.

“No,” Kurt says, and Blaine feels his face fall.

“Oh, okay.” He makes himself not turn away, even if he kind of just wants to sink into the couch cushions and hide.

Kurt laughs again, a little nervously this time, leaning forward to take Blaine’s hands back in his own. He doesn’t even seem to mind that Blaine’s palms are sweaty and gross - and okay, maybe he really likes him, then. “I’d rather take you out on a real one. Right now. If you’re free.”

Blaine refrains from doing a fist pump, not only because he’d have to let go of Kurt’s hands, but also because it would probably be seriously uncool. “I’d have to check my calendar, but I think I am,” he says, a little breathlessly, because they’re kind of sitting really close all of a sudden.

“Good,” Kurt says, leaning forward a little more, and Blaine has always admired the freckles, but now he can make out individual ones and he’d never known they could be so beautiful. Not as beautiful as Kurt’s eyes though, which are clear blue with a little gray and so gorgeous. But then his gaze falls to Kurt’s lips and, yeah, he’s completely lost.

“I’m going to kiss you now, if you don’t mind,” he announces, and just has the time to see Kurt’s quick nod before his eyes slide closed and then their lips are touching.

Blaine hasn’t kissed a lot of guys, so it’s not like he has any significant amount of statistical data to rate this kiss compared to other kisses. He’s sure, though, that even if he had, this kiss would still outshine all the other kisses by miles.

Kurt’s lips are soft and warm and wet and moving gently against his, and they taste like coffee and _Kurt_ and when Kurt exhales through his nose, Blaine can feel it against his cheek and he never wants to stop doing this.

They’re still holding hands and it’s nice, but Blaine doesn’t resist when Kurt let’s go, bringing both hands up to gently cup Blaine’s face, drawing him impossibly closer.

Blaine slides his own hands up Kurt’s chest, feels Kurt’s rapidly beating heart through the layers of clothes, and for the first time all day, he just feels completely, indescribably, _amazingly_ happy.

**

Sam is sitting on the couch watching something Blaine doesn’t recognize when he walks through the door later that night.

He’s had an amazing day; in fact, he’s had the best day ever, and he knows he’s probably grinning like an idiot, but he doesn’t even care. Because he has spent the entire afternoon holding hands with the boy of his dreams and kissing the boy of his dreams, and, god, kissing is _awesome_.

His lips are still feeling all tingly and a little heavier than usual and if it wouldn’t seem so completely needy and insane, he’d walk back over to Kurt’s apartment right now and knock on his door and kiss him some more. Because Blaine _really_ likes kissing. Especially when it’s with Kurt.

“Hi,” he says, dropping onto the couch next to Sam, who looks him up and down with a curious expression.

“You look happy,” he says. “Where were you all day anyway?”

Blaine grins, shrugging nonchalantly. “I was out. You know. On a date. All day.”

Sam grins back, punching his shoulder affectionately. “Dude. That’s awesome. With who?”

“Oh, just.” Blaine examines his fingernails, keeping his voice calm like it’s no big deal. “With my boyfriend.”

Sam gasps, turning on the couch so he’s facing Blaine. “Okay. What? When did this happen? Who is it? Do I know him?”

Blaine lifts his shoulders, pretending to go over all their mutual acquaintances in his head. “I guess you’ve met him. You know. Kurt? From next door?”

“Seriously?” Sam punches him again, then holds up a hand for a high five. “ _Dude_! Finally!”

Unable to sit still any longer, Blaine bounces in his seat, eager to share all the details with his best friend. “Turns out he didn’t actually have a crush on you after all. I got it wrong the entire time.”

Sam frowns. “Wait, what? Why would you think he had a crush on me?”

“Because...” Blaine sighs. “It’s not important anymore. We kissed,” he says, smiling so widely it’s difficult to form words. “And we went for coffee and held hands in the park and we made out on his couch until Santana got home, and we’re going out again tomorrow.” He shakes his head, laughs because this is all just so fucking amazing. “Sam,” he says. “I have a boyfriend. And it’s Kurt. Kurt! Is my boyfriend!”

“I’m happy for you,” Sam says, smiling.

Blaine laughs again and lets his head drop back against the couch, placing a hand over his thundering heart. “I’m happy for me, too. _Really_ happy. Like. Seriously. You have no idea.”

“And I’m totally cool with letting you have the apartment all afternoon tomorrow if you want to, you know...” Sam makes a suggestive hand gesture and it’s Blaine’s turn to punch him this time.

“No. Sam. God.” He blushes. “It’s only our second date.” Not that the idea isn’t extremely tempting. And he’ll probably take Sam up on the offer anyway at some point in the near future. Whenever he’s ready. Ready to let Kurt take his virginity, _god_. Things are really going his way for once.

“Just tell me when,” Sam says, grinning, and Blaine nods.

It’s his second month in the city and he has a hot boyfriend, and he’s so in love with his hot boyfriend, and he has a great best friend and roommate who will totally give them privacy when he wants to be alone with his hot boyfriend whom he loves. Things couldn’t be any better.

 

**Day 120: Every Anniversary is An Opportunity To be Annoyed By Your Roommates**

“So, you are absolutely sure that you will need the apartment later tonight?” Sam asks, still leaning in the door frame of Blaine’s room, watching as Blaine holds a number of different bow ties to his neck. He wants to look extra nice for Kurt tonight.

“You promised,” Blaine reminds him. “It’s our anniversary weekend.”

“It’s a two-month anniversary!” Sam rolls his eyes at him. “No one celebrates a two-month anniversary!”

Blaine sighs. “Kurt and I do. And you _promised_!”

“But that was before I knew that _Star Wars_ was on tonight!”

Blaine turns around, fixing Sam with a firm stare. “Sam,” he says patiently. “We own the DVDs. Two sets of them.”

“It’s not the same,” Sam mumbles sadly, then shrugs. “Fine. I promised to show up at Eric’s party anyway. But I’ll be home by two at the latest, and if I see any bare asses on the couch -”

Blaine throws up his hands. “That was _one time_! And I apologized a hundred times for that. It was probably more embarrassing for us than it was for you anyway.” He still blushes at the memory. And still kind of regrets they didn’t get to finish what had promised to be an amazing blowjob session that day.

“Just saying.” Sam grins. “Keep it in the bedroom, okay?”

Blaine turns back to his mirror, putting down another bow tie and selecting a new one. “Just don’t say you’re going to the library if you intend to walk back in twenty minutes later.”

“Whatever.” Sam pushes off the door frame, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Have fun on your date.”

“Anniversary weekend.”

“Whatever.” Sam takes a step out into the hallway before looking back at Blaine. “By the way? He does have a nice ass. If I were into dudes at all - “

Blaine throws a shoe at him. “Oh my god. Go! Just go!”

**

Santana opens the door for him and waves him inside, looking him up and down with both eyebrows raised. “Damn,” she comments. “Someone is hoping to get laid tonight.”

“Um. Thanks,” Blaine replies, fidgeting nervously. He’s really just wearing tight jeans and a shirt, and a coat on top of it, he hopes it’s not too much...

“Wow.”

He looks up to see Kurt standing a few feet away, breathtaking as always, and he swallows. “Right back at you,” he croaks.

“You look...” Kurt takes a step closer, smiling almost shyly, and even after two months and after seeing Kurt naked, it still does the funniest things to Blaine’s insides.

“You too.”

He takes a step closer too, and then Kurt takes another one, and he takes another one, and then they reach out and their hands are touching, and suddenly he’s being pulled forward gently until they’re just a few inches apart.

“Hi,” Kurt breathes, and Blaine closes his eyes, sliding his arms around Kurt’s waist.

“Hi,” he breathes back, leaning in for a soft, tentative kiss.

“No one who saw you like this would believe you actually had a sex life,” Santana’s voice says just a few inches to the right where she’s studying their faces intently. “If I hadn’t walked in on it myself -”

“Santana, that was one time,” Kurt hisses, blushing, and Blaine just hides his burning face in Kurt’s shirt.

“Two,” Santana corrects him, and Kurt pulls back from Blaine to whip his head around in Santana’s direction.

“One,” he insists.

“Nope.” Santana shrugs. “Last week. In the shower. You two were taking forever and I really needed to brush my teeth.”

Blaine groans, mortified, wondering if it would be silly to move after just four months in his apartment.

“Yes, that was just what it sounded like then,” Santana comments. “By the way, it’s much safer to hold onto the pipes, the shower rod is a bit wobbly -”

“We’re leaving,” Kurt decides, grabbing Blaine’s hand and pulling him toward the door, just stopping long enough to grab his coat. “Right now.”

“Yes, please,” Blaine agrees.

“Have a great time, boys,” Santana calls. “Oh, and Blaine? Have him home by ten. I’ll be waiting up!”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Santana?” Kurt asks, a cross between pleading and annoyed.

“It’s okay,” Blaine assures him. “Sam won’t be home. My apartment is empty. Consider it an anniversary gift.”

“You’re perfect,” Kurt sighs and kisses him, then pulls back abruptly. “Wait. Were we supposed to do gifts for our anniversary? Because I didn’t get you anything...”

“Oh, no,” Blaine assures him. “We’re saving that for a bigger one.”

“No one celebrates a two-month anniversary anyway,” Santana informs them. “Well. No one over the age of thirteen.”

“Yes, thanks for your input,” Kurt says, then pulls Blaine out into the hall, slamming the door shut behind them, and starts off their anniversary date by shoving Blaine against the wall and making out with him for a good ten minutes.

And Blaine doesn’t worry about moving or roommates anymore. Because when the boy next door turns out to be your soulmate, everything else kind of pales in comparison.


End file.
